


time for a change

by leoandsnake



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fingering, First Time With A Girl, Hotel Sex, Porn with Feelings, Service Top, pillow princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandsnake/pseuds/leoandsnake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tyra wonders if there’s a universe in which Lyla Garrity would be standing in a hotel hallway, making a pass at her. She wonders if it could be the same universe as this one, where she’s standing in a hotel hallway, wanting Lyla Garrity to be making a pass at her.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	time for a change

**Author's Note:**

> set in the s1 finale when tyra runs into lyla in the hallway

“Well, that’s pretty intense, Garrity,” Tyra calls down the hall.

She slows as she approaches Lyla, hands jammed in her pockets. To her surprise, Lyla turns around from tossing her pom-poms with a self-effacing smile.

She’s dressed down, with her dark hair up and her face scrubbed, but she’s still painfully gorgeous. Tyra’s heart has always twisted at the sight of Lyla’s angelic little face, with the noble dark brow and plump lips that feel like they’re indicators of her wealth just as much as her car and her clothes.

Tyra always thought it was simple jealousy that made Lyla hard to look at, but her jealousy has been steadily ebbing all day. They stand here as equals in the hallway, neither really happier than the other. Tyra studies Lyla: her twinkling eyes, her slim wrists, the subtle rise of her breasts under her hoodie. There’s a jerk low in her belly that she recognizes.

“Yeah, it’s been a really crappy year,” Lyla says softly. She looks melancholy.

Tyra finds, to her great surprise, that she doesn’t want her to.

“Well, Panthers won State,” she says, shrugging.

There’s a pause.

“I think it’s time for a change,” Lyla says, gazing up at Tyra in a certain way.

It occurs to Tyra that they’re standing very close. Her palms are wet. They look at each other.

Tyra wonders if there’s a universe in which Lyla Garrity would be standing in a hotel hallway, making a pass at her. She wonders if it could be the same universe as this one, where she’s standing in a hotel hallway, wanting Lyla Garrity to be making a pass at her.

Tyra hasn’t been in bed with a girl in a long time. She remembers it well: soft thighs around her waist, the wet clench of a cunt around her searching fingers. The moaning is the best part. Men have nothing on the noises women make.

She wonders what Lyla sounds like. She’s got that great breathy voice, which Tyra had previously thought of as obnoxious and grating. Tyra tightens her arms against her chest and takes a hard breath.

“Apparently,” she says.

Tyra begins to walk away, hoping Lyla will stop her. She’s a few steps gone when she realizes that Lyla doesn’t have the experience or brassiness necessary to do this. As usual, Tyra has to do everything.

She turns, beginning to speak right as Lyla does. They crosstalk and then both stop, embarrassed.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Lyla says, her cheeks pink.

“Oh, I --”

Tyra shoves her hands further in her pockets. Her whole body has tensed.

“D’you want to come back to my room?”

Lyla stares at her, and Tyra burns with fear and opens her mouth to qualify her statement. Lyla smiles.

“Yes,” she says sweetly.

 

/

 

Tyra barely gets the door locked behind them before Lyla is on her, kissing her hard, sucking at Tyra’s lips with that soft mouth of hers and fisting her hands in Tyra’s hair.

“Jesus,” Tyra whispers. She shoves Lyla up against the wall, hands going to her waist, and Lyla makes a breathless sound. She unzips her hoodie in one fluid movement and tugs her jeans off her ass. Tyra slides her hands over Lyla as Lyla shoves her tongue in Tyra’s mouth; Tyra’s hands go underneath her panties and grab at her bare ass. She’s got a nice ass, round and firm from all her cheerleading. The panties have lace on the edges.

She pushes Lyla harder against the wall, their warm bodies shoved together, and presses a knee to Lyla’s crotch. Lyla lets out a choked moan.

“Are you wet already?” Tyra whispers in a throaty voice, slipping her fingers down to Lyla’s pussy to find the answer is yes. “Damn, Garrity...”

“Please,” Lyla begs, and Tyra marvels at how she ever hated Lyla’s breathy voice. Right now, it makes Tyra throb. She sounds so helpless and needy. Tyra feels powerful and needed. Her entire body thrums with it.

“Want me to eat you out?” Tyra says, moving them skillfully to the bed. She steps out of her jeans and tosses Lyla down hard against the mattress. Lyla looks surprised at her strength. She tips her head back, her full lips wet with saliva and pink with arousal. She arches her back off the bed and nods hard.

“You ever been with a girl before?” Tyra says, and yanks the lacy panties down eagerly. Lyla is shaved, but has a landing strip. Her pussy is as perfect as everything else about her, a comma between her two milky and toned thighs.

She kneels on the bed slides between Lyla’s legs so Lyla has her thigh to rub against. “I bet not.”

“Just kissing…”

Tyra stops to get a breath. Her heart is pounding in her chest. She’s wet now, too; she can scarcely believe she has Lyla here underneath her, wanting her so badly. They gaze at each other, Lyla’s dark eyes half-lidded.

“Well, I’m gonna do more than kiss you,” Tyra promises, her voice low. “I’m gonna make you come.”

Lyla chokes out another moan. “ _Please_ …”

Tyra rubs her thumb over Lyla’s clit, just briefly, and Lyla’s entire body spasms. She presses her hands to her eyes and sighs with need.

Tyra leans over her, wanting to touch her all over. She pulls her own shirt off and then undoes her bra. She presses their naked bodies together, feeling the heat of Lyla, the goosebumps on her skin and the shiver she gives as she grabs and squeezes one of Tyra’s breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lyla whispers, “I’ve always thought so --”

Tyra kisses up Lyla’s neck, grateful to her. She presses her knee against Lyla’s pussy and maneuvers it to tease her; Lyla gasps softly in her ear. She slides her hand through Lyla’s gorgeous dark hair and tightens her fingers enough to tug at it.

Lyla’s eyes flutter open and she gazes at her. “You’re wicked, Tyra Collette,” she accuses, and then moans again as Tyra’s knee works more powerfully. “Don’t you dare stop, though.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Tyra breathes, kissing her again. Lyla happily reciprocates.

Tyra doesn’t want to leave Lyla’s mouth, and Lyla doesn’t want her to, but she’s got work to do. She kisses gently down Lyla’s neck, smelling her perfume, over the sweep of her collarbone and her small, pert breasts, her hard nipples. She kisses down the lovely plane of Lyla’s torso and rests her hands on the flare of her hips, pressing her thumb down hard against Lyla’s warm skin.

“You can be rougher with me,” Lyla says in her sweet voice. “I promise.”

“Alright,” Tyra says, masking her excitement. She wraps one arm hard around Lyla’s waist and with the other, presses two fingers into her. She’s open and wet with arousal, patiently waiting. Lyla’s gasp rises in her throat, and then as Tyra begins to rub her thumb hard against her clit, it turns into a desperate sob of arousal. She holds Lyla’s slim body in her arm as she fucks her with her fingers, reveling in her moans and sighs, kissing her breasts.

Lyla comes fast; they've only been at it for two minutes or so when Lyla clenches against her and whines, gripping the sheets in her hands and then sliding her arms over Tyra and dragging her nails hard up Tyra’s back. Tyra clings to her tighter, more powerfully, her fingers moving with steady precision into Lyla.

“Oh, fuck, God,” Lyla cries, “fuck.”

“Garrity,” Tyra says, breathless, “holy shit.”

She presses their bodies together again, sliding her wet fingers into Lyla’s hair. Lyla is sweaty and trembling. She gazes at Tyra adoringly.

“Don’t stop,” she murmurs. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please don’t stop.”

Tyra’s lips quirk up in a smile. She slides down on the bed and hitches Lyla’s leg up over her shoulder, then commences with licking her pussy.

Lyla’s breath catches in her throat. She grabs Tyra’s hair and sinks her fingers into it, hard. She tastes fantastic, slightly musky. Tyra crooks a finger inside of her and she moans louder than she has before, clenching her thighs. Tyra flicks her tongue over Lyla’s clit over and over, torturing her, listening with delight as her moans and cries intensify until she’s begging, then abandons her work to kiss Lyla’s soft thighs.

Lyla cries out in protest, and Tyra gives a soft chuckle.

“You asshole,” Lyla breathes, “don’t stop, please --”

“Alright,” Tyra says, and returns to her clit, licking her with a sloppy eagerness she’s never afforded to anybody else. Lyla feels wonderful around her fingers, and the sharp sting of her nails on Tyra’s back spurs Tyra on.

“Harder, harder,” Lyla begs her desperately. Tyra uses all of her strength to keep her wrist from failing as she pounds Lyla with her fingers and licks and sucks at her clit. Lyla moans in ecstasy, cupping Tyra’s jaw with her hand.

She feels Lyla clenching again, and licks her more passionately, her own clit throbbing as the sounds Lyla makes while being fucked reverberate in her ears. Lyla comes again, sobbing “oh, oh,” and Tyra returns to her, taking Lyla’s jaw in her hands and kissing her on the mouth, making her taste her own pussy. Lyla sighs deeply and melts in Tyra’s arms, nuzzling against her.

They lie there for a while, panting together, needing to feel each other. Tyra presses her lips to Lyla’s sweaty hairline, smelling the scent of her shampoo.

“That was hot,” she murmurs.

Lyla slips her hand over the length of Tyra’s body, lingering on her hip.

“Want me to --”

“Oh, no, Garrity,” Tyra chuckles. Lyla drops her head against Tyra’s chest, also laughing, embarrassed. “I don’t need a first-timer fumbling around down there. I’ll get myself later.”

“I might do a good job!” Lyla protests. “You don’t know!”

“I do,” Tyra says, grinning at her. She’s cute when she’s mad. “It’s alright.”

They go quiet again, stroking each other and calming down. Their sweat dries in the cool hotel air. Tyra strokes Lyla’s hair back off her forehead and presses her lips to her temple, wondering if that’s too tender of her, but not wanting to stop.

“You still gonna pretend not to know me in the halls?” Lyla teases her. “Pretend you hate me?”

Her voice goes soft and vulnerable toward the end. Tyra clears her throat.

“No,” she murmurs.

“‘Cuz you wouldn’t get away with it. I’ll tell everybody. Everyone thinks I’m a crazy slut now, anyway.”

“They’re idiots,” Tyra says dismissively. “Small-town idiots. You’re tough... I thought you’d fold up and die when everyone turned on you, but you were tough.”

Lyla’s quiet for a moment.

“Wow… you _like_ me,” she teases.

Tyra’s heart jumps in her chest. “Shut up!” she says, tickling Lyla.

Lyla lets out a peal of laughter, ducking away from her fingers. “You liiike me!”

“Shush!” Tyra says, exasperated. She rolls over and pins Lyla underneath her, her wrists to the bed. They gaze at each other for a moment, and then Tyra leans in for a long, slow kiss.


End file.
